THE SHOWER
by Donna McIntosh
Summary: Tough decision to make here: Should they go bowling or should they stay in.


Title: THE SHOWER

Author: Donna McIntosh

Fandom: Starsky & Hutch

Genre: Slash

Rating: NC-17

Disclaimer: Not mine; wish they were!

Authors note: This is one of about 15 stories that were written 30 years ago while the series was still airing, prime time. I guess I didn't believe in paragraphing back then! I scanned the old typewritten pages into the computer and at the bottom of this story you'll see how it came out. I died laughing! You can see why I had to retype it.

THE SHOWER

Starsky scrubbed up quickly, stepped out of the shower, slipped into his robe and began vigorously toweling his hair dry. He walked into the bedroom and glanced at Hutch, leaning against the doorway, arms folded against his chest, patiently waiting. "Be ready in a minute," he called from under the towel.

"Take your time. I'm in no hurry." Hutch answered as he watched intently.

Starsky pulled a pair of briefs from the drawer and stepped into them.

"Where are we going? Same place as before?"

"Yeah; might as well."

Starsky pulled a pair of jeans from a hanger in the closet, loosened the belt to his robe and pulled them on. "It's pretty late. Think we can get a lane?"

Hutch thought a minute. "Huh? Oh sure. We can get a lane. If not, we can try that new place over on 5th."

Starsky shrugged off the robe and tossed it in the closet and got a pair of socks from the drawer. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled them on. He could feel Hutch's eyes on him and enjoyed the feeling very much. He pulled his sneakers on and headed for the closet again. After a few seconds search, he took a blue print shirt from its hanger, put it on, buttoned the middle and two lower buttons, rolled the sleeves a few times, opened the front of his pants and tucked his shirt tail in.

"All set," he said as he grabbed his wallet and keys from the chest, ran a comb through his hair a few times and joined Hutch in the doorway.

"I … don't think we should leave jet yet," Hutch said vaguely.

"Why not? Change your mind? Decide you didn't want to go bowling?"

"No … it's not that. I want to go. It's just … well … your hair's still wet. You'll catch cold. Your mom would never forgive me." Hutch answered, confident that he had found the perfect argument.

"OK," Starsky sighed, knowing he couldn't fight that argument. "So we hang around here a while. Got some new records. Wanna hear 'em?"

"Sure. Might as well," Hutch answered and followed into the living room. Starsky put the records on while Hutch made himself comfortable on the couch; feet propped up on the coffee table.

"Sorry about the delay," Starsky apologized.

"That's all right, Buddy. I don't mind." Hutch answered, leaning back with hands clasped together behind his head."

"Want a beer?" Starsky asked.

"No thanks. I'm fine. I like your records."

Starsky smiled and dropped to the couch beside him.

"Nice … really very … nice," Hutch murmured.

"What's nice? The music? The Rain? Me?" Starsky questioned.

"All of it," Hutch answered and gave Starsky a sideways glance.

Their eyes met and held.

"I'm glad," Starsky said, wishing he had thought up something wittier to say.

"I'm glad you're glad," Hutch teased and they both laughed. The laughter faded and still their eyes held.

"Your hair still wet?" Hutch asked and reached over to touch the dark curls at Starsky's temple. Very slowly, very deliberately Hutch leaned over and brought their lips together for an instant.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that," Hutch apologized as he started to get up. Starsky caught him by the arm and stopped him.

"Why not? I've done everything but get down on my knees and beg for it. Am I gonna have to do that too?"

Hutch sat back down, unable to believe his ears. They stared at each other for a moment before Hutch found his voice.

"Do you … know what you're saying?" he asked.

"Darn right I do! I want you to kiss me again," Starsky answered without hesitation.

"Starsk …" Hutch tried to make his mind work but all he could do was stare into those deep blue eyes and was aware only of the slightly parted lips waiting for him to claim them. And claim them; he did in a deep passionate kiss.

Hutch jerked away violently, nearly upsetting the coffee table as he headed for the door.

"Where you going?" Starsky asked, a lot calmer than he felt.

"Bowling! Remember? We were supposed to go bowling?" Hutch fidgeted nervously by the door.

"Can't now … the hair … remember?" Starsky replied, still lounging on the couch.

"Hair? What hair?"

"This," Starsky said and pulled out straight one of his curls. "It's wet; remember? Can't go out in the rain till it dries."

"It's … it's stopped raining now. See?" Hutch offered and eagerly flung the door open only to be met with a cold gust of wind and rain. "Well … it's almost stopped. Don't you have a hat or something?"

"Hutch! I don't wear a hat. Close the door before the carpet shrinks."

Hutch pushed the door closed and leaned against it with his forehead.

"Are you gonna come over here and finish what you started or do I get back in the shower and finish it myself?"

"Finish?" Hutch snapped back around to full attention. "Finish what? I didn't start anything!" They stared at one another in silence.

"Come on, Starsk! You can't be serious!"

"Hutch, it's practically a hurricane out there. We might as well stay here – where it's cozy. Why not?"

"Why not what?" Hutch asked nervously, as he paced back and forth in front of the door.

"Hutch … do you want to go to bed with me or don't you?"

"I didn't hear that!" Hutch said as he turned his back and stared off into space.

"Are you coming over here or am I going in there?" Starsky asked and gestured towards the bathroom.

Hutch stood there silently, not trusting himself to say anything coherent. He heard the door close and spun around to find the room empty.

"He wouldn't!" He moved to listen at the door. All he could hear was the sound of running water. "He wouldn't!" he whispered and turned the knob very gently and peeked inside.

Starsky fully clothed was leaning back against the sink waiting. He caught the door and pushed it open.

"If there's one thing I like, it's a man who finishes what he starts!" Starsky greeted him with a smile.

"Starsk … you weren't really gonna … I mean … not with me out there … waiting?"

"Hutch … Hutch," Starsky went to him, put his arms around him and rested his head against Hutch's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I guess I was wrong. I really thought …" he pulled his head up to look into Hutch's eyes. "I mean … I thought you wanted to … you know. I'm sorry I embarrassed you."

"Starsk," Hutch said tenderly and took him by the shoulders and massaged the side of his neck. "You didn't embarrass me. You shocked the hell out of me, but you didn't embarrass me."

"Same thing," Starsky pouted.

"No, not really," Hutch consoled him.

"The way you kissed me, I mean, you've kissed me before but never on the lips and never like that!"

"I know, I know," Hutch half apologized and pressed the dark curly head back against his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Baby. Must be all that sea food I've been eating lately." He joked.

"Don't be sorry. Please, Hutch, don't be sorry. Don't do any more if you don't want to, but don't be sorry." Starsky snuggled closer in his arms. "You know I wanted it and I think you did too." It was a statement, not a question but Hutch felt compelled to answer.

"Starsk … I … you know I love you," he stumbled as he tried to organize his thoughts.

"Yes," Starsky whispered into his shoulder.

"I'm not sorry about the kiss. I'm just sorry I started something I can't finish." He explained.

"But why? Why can't we finish it … if it's what we both want?" Starsky asked as he pulled back once again to lock eyes.

Hutch caressed the side of Starsky's face with his fingertips and came to rest under his chin.

"Because I'm not sure it's right; right for us."

"Hutch, we love each other and we want each other. How could it not be right?"

"Oh Baby. If only it were that easy."

"It is, Hutch. It is!" Starsky insisted as he pulled Hutch into the bedroom. "We want each other. What else matters?"

"Starsk … we've got to be practical about this."

"Why? What has practicality got to do with anything?"

Hutch shook his head and smiled. He reached out and pulled Starsky to him again. "Do you really want to get mixed up with me … like that, I mean?"

"I think the guy really wants me to get down on my knees and beg!"

"No, Baby, no." Hutch said and tightened his grip on him. "I just want you to be sure."

"Sure? Man I've been sure since that first day we met at the academy! Do you remember that day?"

Hutch laughed. "How could I forget? You came sneaking out from behind all those guys and hopped on that guy's cycle …"

"Now that was your fault!" Starsky laughed in return. "I was just gonna sit there a minute but when you hopped on behind me … What else could I do but take it for a spin?"

"A spin? You nearly got us thrown out of the academy before we were ever officially in it!"

"That's when I knew I loved you. You were the only one of all those guys who had the nerve to get on that cycle with me." They both laughed.

"You're crazy, you do know that don't you?" Hutch asked.

"Crazy about you," Starsky answered seriously.

Hutch cradled his face with his hands. "You won't respect me in the morning," he teased.

"I'll respect you! I'll respect you!" Starsky said and kicked off his sneakers and lay back on the bed.

Hutch sat on the bed beside him. He moved over next to him and stared down into Starsky's face. "I want you … but …"

"No 'buts', Hutch. You want me. Period!"

Hutch leaned over him and brought his face down till their lips met in a gentle kiss. He lingered there, his face close to Starsky's. "How could anyone ever say 'no' to you?" He whispered and covered Starsky's face with kisses.

"Oh Hutch! Hutch! I've wanted this for so long!"

Hutch kicked off his shoes, stretched out beside Starsky and pulled him into his arms. "That makes two of us, Baby. That makes two of us."

He pressed their mouths together again and very gently began to nibble on Starsky's lips. He probed carefully with his tongue and enjoyed tremendously the response as Starsky opened his mouth wide to receive him.

He finally withdrew long enough to catch his breath. "Oh Baby. You're so sweet; so sweet." He whispered as he fumbled with the buttons on Starsky's shirt. In a few moments it was open; his shirt tail pulled free. He ran his hand over Starsky's chest; toyed with the curly hair and came to rest on a smooth flat nipple. A few seconds probing had it erect. He could delay no longer and made a trail of little wet kisses down the side of Starsky's neck, across the collar bone, to join with his finger tips to explore the waiting nipple. He surrounded it with delicate little kisses, then tasted it gently with his tongue.

"Ohhhhhhhh," Starsky moaned and pressed closer to him. Hutch took the hardened nipple in his lips and sucked passionately.

Starsky stood it for a few minutes then pushed him off and fought to catch his breath. "I can't take much of that or it'll be over with before we ever get started."

"It's OK, Baby," Hutch soothed. "Papa's gonna take good care of you. Just relax now." He pushed the blue shirt off Starsky's shoulders, down his arms, and tossed it over the side of the bed. He kissed him again and began another series of tongue-embracing kisses. Starsky strained against him; his breath coming in ragged gasps. In another moment Hutch's shirt had joined Starksy's on the floor and there was nothing left in their way but two pairs of jeans which were removed simultaneously and without need of discussion.

Hutch ran his hand down the broad muscular back and came to rest at the wide elastic band. He slipped his hand under the soft cotton material and caressed the firm rounded buttocks. Starsky made small sensual sounds from deep in his throat and raised his hips. The briefs joined the rest of the clothing on the floor and were followed in seconds by another pair.

Hutch held them together in a vise-like grip around Starsky's lower back. They moved against each other, slowly at first then more and more demanding; more and more giving. Starsky pressed his face against Hutch's shoulder and clung to him desperately, "Hutch … Hutch" he moaned.

"It's OK, Baby … it's OK," Hutch murmured and covered the side of Starsky's face, his neck and his shoulder with firey kisses. "Come on, Love. Come on." He coaxed.

They groaned and writhed against one another a few moments longer before the electrifying impulses could no longer be denied. Starsky climaxed first; triggering Hutch's immediately after. They clung to one another until their shuddering stopped.

Silent minutes passed while they caught their breath.

"You OK, Baby?" Hutch whispered into the damp curls that rested against his cheek.

"Mmmmmmm," was all Starsky could mumble.

Hutch started to snicker. "You sure made a mess in the bed!" he teased.

"You're responsible!" Starsky defended himself. "And it's not the first time you're responsible for a mess in this bed!"

"What?" Hutch pushed him back so he could see his face.

"I dream a lot," Starsky explained mischievously.

"You too?" Hutch laughed. "All right – UP!" he ordered. "Let's hit the shower!"

Starsky followed him obediently into the bathroom. "And YOU wanted to go bowling!" he laughed.

"I did not!"

"Did too!"

"Didn't!"

"Did!"

The rest of the argument was drowned out by the sound of the shower.

The End


End file.
